A Fool In Love
by ShawN7
Summary: Cassandra wants a man who can read poetry, but that's a little hard for Adaar. He'll do anything for her, though, so he turns to the one woman he knows can help him. (Possible spoilers)
1. Chapter 1

**A Fool For Love**

Adaar sighed in frustration, slamming the quill down on the desk.

Vivienne kept her gaze calm while he fumed. "I don't understand it," he said, his cheeks turning a darker purple in either frustration or embarrassment. Perhaps even both.

"My dear, it is not something that is simply taught to someone of your year. Why, if I may ask, darling, were you not taught as a child and why the sudden interest?" Vivienne asked, trying to keep her voice light.

Adaar shrugged his massive shoulders, resting his exhausted face in the palm of his hand. "My parents left the Qun before I was born, but neither had 'jobs' that required the skill of reading and writing. Mother was a baker, father was a soldier. They were farmers after they fled Par Vollen, but father took mercenary work occasionally." He sat back with another heavy sigh, rubbing at the tight muscles in his neck.

"I was good with a sword, so when I was of age I joined a mercenary company in the Free Marches. It just never became the priority." Vivienne nodded in understanding.

"And the reason why it has become the priority now?" She questioned, trying to surpress the smile gracing her lips.

She had suspected why, but it wasn't a clear enough answer. Adaar coughed nervously, glancing to the door of the library and back. "The Inquisitor should be able to write his own reports and read them, right?" He tried, a shy smile covering the lie.

Vivienne laughed, "Very true, my dear. But that is one reason why lady Montilyet is here. I suspect that is not your main objective. You clearly have a distaste for learning, yet you're very adamant. You can tell me, darling." She gave him a knowing smile, shaking her head slightly when he began to fidget in his chair. How many times did she have to tell him to sit still and straight?

He rubbed at his neck again, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "I… It's, um." He groaned, hiding his face in his large hands. "It's for Cassandra." He mumbled into his hand. Vivienne smiled, "I'm sorry, my dear, I didn't quite get that."

She leaned toward him to hear him better. He groaned once more, dropping his hands. "It's for Cassandra. She likes men who read poetry and I can't read, but I need to learn so I can be that man." He spat out faster than lightning.

Vivienne giggled at his discomfort, "Relax, my dear. Your secret is safe with me." She patted the back of his hand reassuringly, standing to scan the shelves of books. "Now, let's start with something simple and work our way up, shall we?" Adaar flashed a bright smile, standing to join Madame de Fer by the shelves. "She likes things of passion, romance." Adaar said lovingly, looking at the shelves for something the Seeker would like.

Vivienne watched him browse, proud of the man he was and growing to be. "Of course, darling, of course."


	2. Chapter 2

"May the Maker…" Adaar scratched behind his horns, trying to make out the strange Chantry prayer.

He had learned one poem so far with the assistance of Madame de Fer, but he was still… hesitant sharing it with Cassandra. He was afraid of making a fool of himself. Vivienne suggested reading prayers and stories from the Chantry to help, since Cassandra believed in the Maker. Adaar sighed, feeling his frustration build again.

"Why is this so difficult!" He exclaimed, throwing the Chantry book across the garden. He could hear Morrigan's laugh behind him, "I often feel the same when reading Chantry gibberish."

He ignored her, storming to the door leading into the great hall, straight to the war room. Josephine startled at his abrupt entrance through her office, but she did not follow. He needed to do something else, plan their next move on Corypheus, or secure some supply line, he didn't care. He just needed his mind off her.

He threw open the war room door, his brow relaxing immediately at the light gasp emitted by his startling entrance.

"Cassandra…" He whispered, not sure if he should feel excitement or regret at finding the one woman he wanted to be around, yet caused him to feel so conflicted. He coughed into his hand, trying to regain some semblance of his pride.

"My apologies, Seeker, I didn't mean to interrupt." He kept his eyes downcast, still embarrassed from their last encounter above the garden. "It's alright, Inquisitor. I-," She stopped, seeming to think something through. "I was just leaving." She finished, moving around the table.

He moved aside, holding the door open for her. He wanted to ask her to stay, to apologies for not coming to speak with her lately, but fear gripped his throat, strangling the words he wanted to say. As she passed, however, she stopped.

"Inquisitor, I-" was all she said before he grabbed her, pushing her back to the door. His hand gripped her waist, pulling her against his chest. His other hand rested against her cheek, fingers tangling in her short hair. Their lips met instantly.

He was rough, kissing her deeply, afraid she might resist and he wanted to preserve the moment for as long as he could. She did not. When the need for air arose, he reluctantly pulled back, softening the kiss and eventually pulling back so their lips brushed against each other. He didn't want to let go.

He pressed her forehead to his, squeezing her to him tightly before letting her go altogether. He stepped back, waiting for a punch to the jaw. She rested against the door, breathing heavily, staring off into some distance he couldn't see.

His mouth opened and closed like some fish out of water, unsure of what to say. He knew why he did it, but how could he explain it to her? _Just say it, Adaar! Tell her how you hold your breath when she enters a room, how your heart skips a beat when she looks at you, how you unconsciously smile every time she rushes into battle and you're beside her. Tell her how you think shes the most beautiful woman you've ever met, that she is smart and strong, that you fight for her more than for Thedas._

But he stood there, confused. She continued to stare, trying to catch her breath. Adaar shook his head, and retreated from the war room and into Josephines office. "Inquisitor, is everything-" Josephine asked upon his entrance, but he didn't hear her.

His face burned and his chest was tight. So tight he could barely breath. As he entered the great hall, an enormous roar erupted from his chest. He grabbed his horns, wanting to rip them from his head. The people in the hall watched him with a mixture of horror and amusement. What had he just done? He raced across the hall and up the stairs to where Vivienne spent most of her time above the great hall.

"My dear, what in the Maker's name-" He dropped to his knees before her, hugging her waist and hiding his face in her robes. Vivienne patted his back, unsure of the issue. Her maternal instincts that she thought lost kicked in, sensing that it must have to do with Cassandra.

"My darling boy, this will not do." She said, grabbing his chin and forced him to look at her. His face was the darkest purple she had ever seen. "I'm an idiot, Vivienne. A complete fool." He whined, staring at her with sad, embarrassed eyes. She sighed, "stand, my dear. You're stronger than this."

He obeyed her, even though he didn't feel strong at all. "She makes me weak, Vivienne. I don't understand it."

She smiled gently at him, caressing his stubbled cheek. "That is love, darling. And you're a fool for it." He groaned in response, "I hate it."

She laughed, "I know, darling." Her expression softened, becoming serious. "Now stand straight, I'm tired of this slouching." Adaar immediately straightened his large spine to its full height. "Now," she sighed, "stop this foolishness. You're the Inquisitor, not some love-stricken schoolboy. They need a leader and Cassandra would not put up with this weakness, would she?" She questioned, making Adaar feel small even though he towered over her. "No, she wouldn't."

Vivienne shook her head defiantly, "exactly. Now, face whatever it is you may have done. You're a warrior, fierce and proud. You do not cower and you do not falter. Show her." She turned him toward the staircase, giving him a gentle shove. He looked over his shoulder, like a young boy being sent by his mother. "Yes, Madame." He whispered, taking the stairs slower than was necessary. "Now, Adaar." She called after him, and smiled when he picked up his pace.

* * *

><p>Adaar crossed the courtyard, smiling as he saw Cassandra reading. <em>She is lovely, <em>he thought to himself. His smile faded as his embarrassment took over. He worked over every possible thing he could say to her over and over on his slow walk outside. She didn't notice his approach, giving him time to breathe, or try to anyway.

"Cassandra." His deep baritone voice rumbled, causing her to slam her book closed like the first time he caught her like this. She stood, blushing furiously, but he suspected it wasn't over the book this time.

"Adaar! I-I mean Inquisitor." She stammered, fidgeting with the book in her hands. He gave her a lopsided smile, "You can call me Adaar, Cassandra." He relaxed, knowing she was just as embarrassed by the situation. "I-I know that, I-" she sighed heavily, her blush deepening. He straightened his shoulders, remembering why he was here. One thing he wanted to say stood out in his mind, and it wasn't close to anything he had rehearsed in his head.

"I won't apologize." He stated, matter-of-factly. She frowned at him, either in confusion or anger, he didn't know. He powered through. "I won't apologize because I don't regret what I did, I-" He took a deep breath, "I like you, Cassandra. I respect you, your ideals, your strength."

He shook his head, unsure of how to say what he felt. He grabbed her hands, causing her to drop her book, and pulled her close to him. He kissed her, softer than the first, hesitant. She pulled her hands slightly, and he let them go, thinking she would pull away.

And she did. She pulled back, looking into his silver eyes, then looking around the courtyard to see if anyone was watching. He was about to stand up when her arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him down for another kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist in turn, hugging her tight to his torso, lifting her slightly off the ground. He smiled into the kiss, loving the way her soft lips molded perfectly into his.

He didn't want to let her go again, but the need for air became too much. He placed her softly on her feet, keeping his arms around her waist. She pulled back, breathing heavily and placing her hands on his chest. "I-" she panted, trying to catch her breath.

"I like you, too." She whispered softly, so softly he wouldn't of heard if they were not so close. "You're a good man," her Navarran accent coming out thick with excitement. He smiled down at her, hugging her tight.

"If I come here tonight, will you be here?" He whispered softly in her ear. She smiled, her arms reaching for his neck so she could reach his ear, "yes." She whispered back. He buried his face in her shoulder, giving her a squeeze before letting go.

"Good, I have a surprise." He said, smiling broadly. "A surprise?" She frowned in confusion. He bent, kissing her brow to relax.

"A surprise." He laughed, turning back to the great hall.

* * *

><p><strong>I've come to the conclusion that I do not write men very well. Oh well, I hope you enjoy the story anyhow. Please review. :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

He approached her slowly. She sat under the tree, reading as usual, resting her head in her hand.

He felt sick with apprehension, his stomach churning and twisting, threatening to show his last meal. He couldn't help but feel anxious over what might happen, he didn't know how she would react. It was all ready, Vivienne made sure of it, but he was still terrified of making a mistake.

She looked up, a small smile stretching the scar on her cheek as she saw him.

She was beautiful, the kind of woman he could only dream of having. He smiled back, extending his hand to her, "Ready?" He said in a low voice.

She took his hand, hers ten times smaller than his own and nodded. He lead her outside of Skyhold, a few short miles to the west where a small grove was sheltered from the constant snow drift. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, threatening to burst out and run away from the fear he was feeling.

He tightened his grip on her hand to stop their slight tremble.

When they arrived, he let her walk the path of candles that were laid out towards the clearing. He watched her as she looked around in confusion, hesitant to see what lied ahead. Adaar took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and followed her, pulling out the small poetry book he'd been practicing with.

"On aching branch do blossoms grow, the wind a hollowed breath." He started slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. She turned to him, eyes widening with surprise.

"It carries the scent of honeysuckle, as sweet as the lover's kiss." He continued on, trying to keep his voice from quivering.

She brought her hand up to hide her smile. Adaar gave her a teasing smile, leaning close only for her to push him away with a quiet laugh.

"It brings the promise of more tomorrows, of sighs and whispered bliss." His confidence built as she let out more soft giggles and a slight blush appeared on her high cheekbones.

She shook her head at him, and for dramatic effect, trying to loosen the tension he felt, he knelt down in front of her with a teasing grin. "You can't be serious." She said, shaking her head with disbelief. He shrugged his massive shoulders, his grin nearly splitting his face as her radiant smile brightened, her chocolate eyes alight with something he had never seen before.

"And _that's _the poem you chose?" She mocked, and Adaar felt his earlier anxiety build once more. "What's wrong with it?" His smile faltering slightly. He handed her the book and she snatched it, reading the title.

"Carmenum Di Amatus, I thought this one was banned." She shook her head, the smile on her face never wavering.

"His lips on mine speaks words not voiced, a prayer." Adaar held his breath, the line bringing up their earlier encounter in the war room. She turned from him, continuing to read. "Which travels down my spine like flames that shatter night."

He walked around her, as she leaned against a nearby tree, watching the beautiful warrior before him lost in the kind of poetry she loved.

"His eyes reflect the Heaven's stars, the Makers light." Her voice dropped to a whisper, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he moved behind her. "My body opens, filled and blessed, my spirit there."

He leaned his arm on the tree, his warm breath near her neck sending a shiver down her spine. He grinned, watching her shudder.

"Not merely housed in flesh, but brought to life." He finished the next line for her, his voice low and hoarse with want. He rested his giant hand on her waist, leaning close to her ear.

He couldn't stop himself, he needed her, wanted her, had dreamt of this moment for months now. "Shall we read another?" He asked, the question giving her an out in case she didn't want this.

She shuddered once more, a sigh escaping between her lips as she turned around, reaching for his neck and pressing her lips to his. He hummed happily, loving the way her soft, small lips felt against his own, the way her tongue teased his and her teeth nibbled at his lower lip. He gripped her waist, trying to cushion her fall as she dragged him down to the grass.

A soft whimper filled the silent night as his lips traced her jaw line and down her neck. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him on top of her. A growl rumbled in his chest as she whispered his name, tugging on his horns and what little hair he had. He lost himself in her touch, her moans, and her heat. Nothing mattered with her in his arms, listening to her heavy pants and sighs. With her, everything was right in the world and for once since the Conclave, since he could remember, he could finally breathe.

He could finally live.


End file.
